


Lets Do It, Lets Fall In Love

by juvjuvychan



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, diner au, main pairing sam/steve, various side pairings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juvjuvychan/pseuds/juvjuvychan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam's car breaks down he finds himself in a strange little town in the backwaters of New Mexico.  There he meets an array of characters that range from alarmingly sincere, to having to much damn sass for their own good.  The last person Sam ever thought he'd meet was love of his life.  In New Mexico of all places.  But damn if Steve Rogers, blond, blue eyed, do-gooder extraordinaire, isn't easy to fall in love with. </p>
<p>Diner AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lets Do It, Lets Fall In Love

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by this post on tumblr](http://kehinki.tumblr.com/post/81849027758/hackedmotionsensors-anthonymackies-anthony) and really I just couldn't help myself like there still isn't enough sam/steve fic going around so I have to contribute with my cruddy aus apologies for any and all mistakes 
> 
> lets do this fandom lets get to making samsteve a thing

Sam's car sputters out a pitiful sound as it slows down to a crawling draw. Sam has just enough time to pull over before his car gives out with a coughing whimper.

  
“You've got to be kidding me.” Sam bangs his head against the steering wheel lightly mourning his bad luck. All because he was to stubborn to catch a flight to L.A. for his friends wedding.

  
Heat barrels down from a cloudless sky as Sam reluctantly steps out from his car. Looking down both sides of the highway he is greeted with nothing but the sight of more smoldering blacktop and dry desert.

  
All in all, Sam is pretty sure that his luck fucking sucks.

  
Of all places to break down it had to be on a beat down highway in the middle of New Mexico. Sam supposes he should be grateful it wasn't Texas. Either way Misty is going to pay when he sees her after he finds a way out of this literal hellhole.

  
He swipes a hand across his forehead, where sweat has already begun to blot up. Sam knows he can't stay here next to his now dead car. Any help he calls could be hours before arriving on the scene. In this heat Sam really doesn't have the patience to wait that long. Not to mention the dry, dusty terrain reminds him to much of being overseas. It's making him a bit twitchy to look at, but Sam closes his eyes and remembers his therapy exercises.

  
Sam checks his phone. A quick GPS search shows a town a few miles out. He grabs a bottle of water from his car, along with a rag he usually uses to wipe down his windshield. Sam soaks the rag lightly, wrapping it around his head to keep cool.

  
He begins walking in part to keep his mind off things, maybe even get lucky and happen upon some help.

  
“It better not be some House of Wax shit.” Sam says to himself as he begins his trek.

  
A few miles down the road begins to feel like a few hundred and at times like this Sam is grateful for his time in the service. It makes the journey a little easier at least. He takes a swig of water when the tale tell sounds of wheels against pavement crawl up behind him.

  
Sam tenses.

  
“Can we offer you a ride?” An older white man, with graying blond hair offers from the passenger side window of a beat up white van.

  
Sam eyes the van and the man warily. He's heard plenty of horror stories of so called helpful white folks offering aid to black men down south.

  
“Nah,” Sam says, “I'm fine, thanks though.” He adds because he's polite like that.

  
“Are you sure?” Another voice pipes in. This time a woman, small from what Sam can see of her in the drivers seat, with light brown hair, brown eyes, and white skin. “That was your car back there wasn't it?”

  
Sam nods.

  
“It's awfully hot out here,” she comments clearly trying to appeal to Sam's sense of survival. It is ridiculously hot. Like inhumanely so.

  
“Come on dude it's way to hot—whoa,” another young white woman sticks her head out from the backseat of the van. She all but pushes the older man out of the way to get a better look at Sam. “Speaking of hot,” she smiles widely, brown eyes lighting up behind her glasses.

  
Sam smiles back and even throws her a wink.

  
“We can take you into town,” the woman driving offers. Sam is hard pressed not to take them up on it. They don't seem like crazed, racist serial killers. They have all their teeth which Sam is counting as a plus. “It's really no trouble.” The woman says in such an earnest way that Sam's worries all but vanish. It's better then spending another minute walking in this heat.

  
He shrugs, “if you'll have me.”

  
The woman in the glasses grins, “oh I'd love to have you.” Sam smirks while the other woman scolds her companion embarrassed. “Hop on in sailor.” She disappears for a second into the backseat.  Sam walks around to see the van doors open, welcoming him into their cool embrace. He settles in comfortably on a stack of crates.

  
“I'm more of a soldier than a sailor.” Sam grins as the woman bites her lip.

  
“Sweet,” she coos. Sam laughs.

  
“Sam Wilson,” he holds out his hand which she takes enthusiastically.

  
“Darcy Lewis,” she introduces before turning to her two companions up front. “The nice smelling lady up front is Jane Foster,” Jane gives him a small smile in the mirror. “And the old guy is Erik Selvig.” Erik coughs delicately, but Sam can tell team teasing from a mile away. Whatever these guys do, they've been doing it together for a long time. It almost makes Sam ache for a time when he had his own partner who knew him inside and out.

  
“We're scientists,” Darcy announces proudly motioning to the cluttered mess of equipment scattered about the back of the van. It's all mostly tech stuff Sam wouldn't have a clue how to use unless someone took a long while to show him.

  
“We're the scientists,” Jane corrects, “she's the intern.”

  
“Uh head intern thank you very much.”

  
“Only intern.” Jane says tone fond, as if her and Darcy have had this conversation a million times before. The ache grows just a bit in his chest. Sam takes a deep breath to clear his thoughts.

  
It doesn't take long for them to reach town. Sam is glad to see everything appears normal and nothing at all like some outtake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It's small, sure, but alarmingly normal and quaint. It reminds Sam of the glossy pictures of a tourism magazine but with more desert.

  
“We're going to the diner for a bite to eat,” Jane says as they pull through town. Sam spots a a group of teenagers playing basketball which makes him smile. “You're welcome to join if you'd like.”

  
Jane has an air about her that is calming and kind, something Sam appreciates.

  
“I'd love that,” he looks down as his sweat stained shirt, “but you wouldn't happen to have a shirt I could borrow?”

  
Darcy perks up. “You could just go shirtless. People do that here all the time.” She explains, funnily the way she says it, Sam believes her. Which is a little weird, but he guesses it could be attributed to the heat of the town. Maybe some kind of small town quirk where everyone walks around shirtless. Sam can get behind that.

  
“Darcy,” Jane scolds lightly, but there's a light blush coloring her cheeks that makes Sam chuckle to himself. “Yeah Sam would should have something in...” She smacks Erik—who's been dutifully ignoring their conversation—on the arm motioning him to help them in the back. Between the three of them they discover an old well-worn bright red and white t-shirt that fits Sam just fine.

  
It's a little tight but Sam can't complain.  Darcy and Jane sure aren't.

  
They pull into the diner parking lot. It's a small place, yet somehow holds a larger than life personality to it. The road sign is a huge hammer, with old style font spelling out the words New Asgard. The actual diner is some strange cross between a medieval tavern and a typical all America restaurant.

The door chimes as the walk in.  Sam notices that the wait staff are decked out in a combination of modern day and Renascence style clothing. The booths against the wall are lined with faux red leather with round tables made of fake redwood. At least Sam's assuming it's fake because what small town diner can afford real redwood tables?  There's also a modern day bar where people are sitting sipping coffee and conversing happily with the staff. There's various European style swords lining the upper walls which are also a thick dark oak. Sam spots various pictures of old Norse mythology. Even the menu above the modern day counter has scribbled words in both modern and old style font.

  
All in all, it's different, but Sam finds he really likes it.

  
“Jane!” A woman, tall, built, with a bouncy black ponytail and pale skin rushes towards them with open arms. She envelops Jane in a tight hug.

  
“That's Sif.” Darcy explains as the two women continuing hugging.

  
“Oh.” Sam says. “Are they a thing?” Sam asks because he can't help himself.

  
Darcy purses her lips cartoonishly, “it's a bit complicated but yeah kinda sorta?”

  
Before he can ask her to elaborate further they're being shuffled off into a booth. Sam glances through the menu suddenly feeling ravenous. Everything sounds good, and Sam's mouth is watering at the thought of digging into a mountain of bacon and pancakes.

  
“Jane!” Another voice yells from behind the bar counter. A large man with dusty blond hair tied in a loose braid near bounds up to her. His large hands cup Jane's face gently before drawing her into a deep kiss.

  
Sam blinks.

  
“Yeah that's her boyfriend Thor.” Darcy explains eyeing her menu while Erik pays the couple no mind. Clearly this is an every day thing between the four.

  
Sam turns to Darcy peeking at the couple over his own menu, “so her and Sif aren't...”

  
Darcy shrugs, “they're kinda all dating each other.” She gives him a low look, “that's not a problem is it?” Her voice loses any of its previous friendliness.  Sam understands, he's faced similar crap before in the big city. Out here in the backwater of nowhere it must be even harder to deal with.

  
“Not even close to a problem,” he assures her thinking of Jessica, Luke, and Danny, and their own similar arrangement. “Though I gotta say, they sure do look like giants next to her.” Darcy peaks over at the couple before letting out a snort. With that the tension is broken and they go back to picking their food and making short jokes about Jane.

  
“Thor,” Sif says with a nudge strong enough to knock Thor—who's build like a mac truck all broad shoulders and huge arms and if Sam was into blond white guys Thor be at the top of the list—back a few spaces. “We have customers to attend to. Let these good people eat their fill and we shall rejoin with Jane at a later time.” At this she winks to Jane and Sam can imagine the sort of rejoining they'll be up to later.

  
“Farewell my Jane, we shall send Steven to serve you.” Thor kisses her hand gently with no hint of irony. Which is probably one of the sweetest thing Sam's ever seen.

  
“Oh I love Steve.” Darcy says perking up.

  
“Who's Steve?”

  
“Hi I'm Steve, and I'll be your waiter.” He looks at Sam all kind blue eyes, and a crooked awkward smile. “How can I help you today?”

  
Sam was wrong, as of right now, blond white guys are so his type.

**Author's Note:**

> to be continued maybe
> 
> sidenote: formatting is a pain in the ass


End file.
